Consequences
by idontlikegravy
Summary: Set after the finale of Series 1. The housemates return to the lives they were living, but that night had consequences...


_**A/N1:** If you haven't seen Episode 6 of Being Human then DO NOT READ - there are MAJOR SPOILERS._

**A/N2:** _This fic is my thoughts on what may happen next. As a second series has been commissioned, it will probably become AU._

_Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to Toby Whithouse and the nice people at the BBC who were intelligent enough to commission it._

**Consequences**

The truth came out two weeks later.

Life had gone back to what was considered as normal for the household. With no reprisals forthcoming from the vampires, Mitchell and George had returned to work at the hospital. Although just to be safe they avoided the hospital canteen.

It was nearing the end of a late shift when Mitchell passed Nina in the corridor. They politely nodded and smiled at each other in recognition, but then kept walking to avoid any awkward conversations. After a few steps, however, Mitchell stopped, turned and inhaled sharply.

"Nina?"

She stopped and looked back at him. He walked back toward her and inhaled again, a look of concern on his face. He could see that she was puzzled by his actions, and she was obviously a little frightened when he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her into a nearby empty linen store and closed the door behind them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, yanking her arm free of his grip. "Never heard of personal space?"

Mitchell didn't back off, but instead leaned closer, pressing her against the wall.

"George scratched you, didn't he?" he stated. Nina began to protest, but he continued. "I can smell It, and it isn't George, it's you. He scratched you, when we were in the basement."

Nina thought about denying it, but she knew it was pointless. Instead she rolled up her sleeve and showed Mitchell the parallel cuts across her arm, now nearly healed.

Mitchell stepped back, and his face softened to one of sympathetic concern. He could see that Nina visibly relaxed a little, perhaps relieved to confess.

"I'm so sorry, Nina. You haven't told him, have you?" Mitchell asked, although it was more statement than question. It would have been obvious if George knew. The suicide attempts would be a big clue.

"I didn't know how to tell him. He'll be devastated."

"You know you have to though. Devastated or not, you can't hide this from him. And in two weeks you'll change. You'll need his help then," Mitchell said, his voice gentle. Nina nodded. "I'll help you, if you like."

"Thank you, but I think I need to do this alone."

At that moment, the door opened and the werewolf in question entered the room. He looked from one to the other, confusion clear on his face.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing in here? Together?" George asked with a nervous smile. His eyes were drawn to Nina's arm as she hastily rolled down her sleeve; she wasn't fast enough. He grabbed her arm and gently pushed the sleeve up again, gasping at the sight of her wound then dropped her arm and stumbled backward a few steps before he took off his glasses and sniffed. "Oh God," he whispered, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, head cocked to one side. The three of them stood there, staring at each other for a moment, George spluttering little protests and shaking his head. He put his glasses on, took them off again, rubbed the bridge of his nose and then ran out of the room.

"George!" cried Nina.

"George!" Mitchell called, "Stay here, I'll go and find him," he instructed before chasing after George.

Mitchell found George in a crumpled heap in the corner of one of the men's toilets, crying, so Mitchell sat down beside him and laid a comforting hand on his knee.

"What have I done? You were right, I became the monster after all," George sobbed.

"No, shh," Mitchell said and sighed. He was relieved that George was finally showing emotion again; he'd been so blasé about killing Herrick that he had been worried about George. But it was really frustrating that George was now regressing back to his default mode for dealing with the werewolf – guilt.

George stared resolutely at the floor, tears staining his cheeks and pooling in his glasses. Mitchell pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gingerly held it out to George who took it and started to clean them.

"I was weak; I used It, and look what happened. I did the worst thing I could imagine doing. I don't deserve to live," George said as he cleaned, focussing his gaze on the glasses.

"Then neither do I. I've killed and turned plenty so if you should be dead, then I should be a hundred times over. You were in that room to save me. God, if anyone should be feeling guilty it should be me!"

"No, I'm the one to blame here," Nina said, making them both jump. She had slipped in while they were talking.

"You shouldn't be in here," George pointed out. Nina shrugged.

"Walking into the men's is hardly the worst thing I've ever done. Look, George, I've been thinking about this for two weeks now. I don't blame you. You tried to send me away, keep me out of it all. Mitchell and Annie tried to keep me from going down to the basement, but I ignored them and went anyway. It was my fault I was in that room, nobody else's."

George shook his head, protests already forming on his lips, but Mitchell held up a hand to stop him.

"Look, we all know that no matter what is said, you're going to feel guilty about this for years. And a cold bathroom floor is not the place for trying to convince you otherwise," he said as he stood up and offered a hand to George. George looked at him for a moment before taking the proffered hand.

"Don't think you can make me feel better about this," George said, standing.

"I don't. I'm not trying to. But you and Nina have things to discuss, practicalities to consider. And you've only two weeks to sort it out."

George looked at Mitchell, then at Nina, the horrible realisation dawning on him.

"Oh God," he repeated. Mitchell shook his head. "Nina, I'm so…"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. I couldn't take that, not now. Mitchell's right, we have things to talk about, and I need you to be the strong one now. I'll come round to yours after shift," Nina said. She said it calmly although it was clear from the hitch in her voice and the way she abruptly left the room that she was barely keeping control of her pain and anger.

George stood there dumbstruck, staring at the doorway Nina just walked through; Mitchell placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't do it, Mitchell. I can't be strong enough for both of us, I can only just get myself through it each month," George confessed.

"You can do it and you will. You were strong when you rescued me, not once but three times. Just focus on the practicalities, show her the things that you do, guide her. You can do this; I ibelieve/i in you, George."

George looked at Mitchell, and raised one eyebrow.

"You _believe_ in me? You've been watching those true-life, made for TV movies again, haven't you?" he said with a weak grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Mitchell laughed and held his hands up.

"You caught me, I can't resist those triumph over adversity stories, gets me right here, you know?" he replied, tapping his chest over his heart as he spoke. George smiled again, more genuinely this time. It would take him time to process this, but at least he was smiling, that was a start. They started walking out of the bathroom, George shaking his head.

"Just please, promise me you haven't been watching any Danielle Steele."


End file.
